


Old Magic

by TheLadyMagician



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Because Dorian is conditioned not to be happy, Cullen is as well, Denial, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Familiars, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Practical Magic AU, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyMagician/pseuds/TheLadyMagician
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dorian's first heartbreak his mother teaches him a bit of old magic. Casting flowers and herbs into a bowl and wishing for someone doesn't make them real. Dorian refuses to believe the wish he made when he was younger came true, even if the evidence is staring him right in the face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Did anyone ask for a mild Practical Magic AU with familiars? Anybody? No?
> 
> Well, here's what literally no one asked for.

The black marble hall was vast, empty, and nearly offensive in its opulence. The moonlight bounced around the chamber and gleamed off Silas's black fur as he walked beside his mistress. Lucretia's shoes clicked on the tile, the sound echoed against the columns and walls. The slaves had long since retired for the night, so the entire estate was silent except for Lucretia's heels and a small child's sobs. The magister made her way to her son's bedroom, Silas a silent companion at her side.

The fox padded along and nudged open Dorian's door, the sound of crying intensified as Lucretia sidled into the room. His room was lined in books and maps, far too many for a child of nine, but Dorian was nothing if not ambitious. Though at the moment he resembled a ball curled up tight atop his bed and wrapped in his blanket. Rilienus was coiled around the child as he tried to comfort his master to no avail.

"What's wrong, Dorian?" Lucretia asked as she stepped towards Dorian's bed. She held out her hand and allowed Rilienus to slither around her arm, the snake seemingly happy for the support. "You hardly ate anything when we dined."

"Not hungry," Dorian mumbled. Rilienus hissed in response while Silas leaped on Dorian's bed, nudging the boy.

"But it was your favorite."

Dorian wound himself tighter and pulled the duvet further over his head, trying to no avail to smother himself with the linen. Silas bit the end of the blanket and attempted to yank it off, to Dorian's muffled complaints.

"Come now. It would be better if you spoke about it," Lucretia tried again, shooing away Silas. She picked up Dorian, duvet and all, and set him on her lap. "Or don't. But you will cause your mother to worry and her hair will whiten. And trust me child, I will be an absolute fright if I have you to blame for my hair whitening." Lucretia reached in underneath the blanket, tickling her son as he squirmed and laughed against her barrage.

Dorian peeked his head out, one gray eye visible from his cocoon. "Your hair will never whiten, mother. You will always be beautiful."

"Of course I will, darling," Lucretia said. "I'll simply be beautiful with white hair. Time herself bows before my beauty, as she will with yours." With a gentle sweep of her hands, Lucretia pulled the duvet away from Dorian's face. "If you continue to cry so, she may have an easier time of robbing you of your youth, though."

Dorian wiped at his eyes, smearing the ink stains from his hands on his face. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's good to cry every once in a while. But it's even better to tell your mother what happened."

"I," Dorian started, lowering his eyes to his hands to avoid looking at his mother. "I- There's someone in my class. They're so smart and they like all the same books I do. But they said we couldn't talk anymore. He- They," Dorian fidgeted and blushed as he verbally slipped, but Lucretia ran a hand through his hair and waited for him to continue. "They kissed me though! Two days ago! But they said we couldn't read in the library or practice spells anymore because they're betrothed. It wouldn't 'look' right."

Leave it to noble Tevinter children to think about their image at the age of nine. Already forming connections for their future before they cast their first fire glyph. Lucretia herself was a product of that attitude and for all she received from it--the estate, the prestige, the seat in the Magisterium--she found herself wanting a bit of happiness instead.

The closest she got was Dorian, but there's only so much you can do to rebel against the environment you were brought up against. Soon, Dorian would look more and more like a prestigious Tevinter noble and there was little she could do to stop it.

"Come," Lucretia said and patted Dorian on the head. "Walk with me." Rilienus slid back onto the bed and around Dorian's neck, burrowing himself beneath the neckline of the child's pajamas. Dorian gave a token protest but allowed himself to be led out of the room by his mother.

The walk to the greenhouse was nearly silent, with only mild complaints from Dorian once he realized where they were headed. "Herbology?" he groaned.

"Hush. You and I are going to cast a spell." The smell of earth and herbs cascaded out the greenhouse door even before Lucretia opened it. Some of the flowers had closed themselves for the night while others opened solely for the moon. The room was lined with every herb and flower known to Thedas. Tevinter may have forgotten what real magic and power looked like, but Lucretia remembered every time she stepped foot in the garden.

"With plants?" Dorian said skeptically. His eyes were red and puffy, but he cast his gaze about the room critically.

Lucretia picked up a small stone bowl and placed it on the workbench. "Can you fetch me some elfroot?" Lucretia asked her black fox who bounded off to fulfill the request. "Some of the oldest magic is done with herbs, Dorian. You would do well to remember that."

"I know," Dorian said petulantly. It was very likely that Dorian did not know. Not many teachers subscribed to herbalism anymore and the ones who did were not at the Circle that Dorian went to. "But why do we have to do it now?"

"When I was much younger, I also had a crush on the most wonderful person. Much like you, they broke my heart into halves and then fourths before shattering it completely." Lucretia bent down and took the elfroot from Silas's mouth as he returned and nudged her leg. With a practiced hand, she stripped the leaves into the bowl. "So I went into my mother's garden and wished for a new love. A new sort of love. Hair as black as night and a laugh that would stop me in my tracks. They would love ducks and cats and could cast a Blizzard with their eyes closed. Also, they would be a terrible, terrible cheat at cards."

Dorian smiled as he peered over the rim of the bowl where Lucretia was working. "Why would you want them to be a terrible cheat?"

"Because life's no fun if you follow all the rules." Lucretia wiped her hands against a cloth on the table and pulled a Prophet's Laurel flower from nearby and tore it in thirds before casting it in the bowl with the elfroot. "And cheating at something so frivolous as cards means they don't take themselves too seriously."

"But you married father," Dorian pointed out. Halward may have black hair, but none of the other criteria applied to him. Dorian was no fool, either, and he would have to be to believe that any love existed between Halward and Lucretia Pavus. "Do you think that your cheater man exists?"

"Or woman," Lucretia said to Dorian's widening eyes. "I didn't specify in the spell, and truly, if you can find love Dorian, you should take it. But I do believe he or she exists. With all my heart."

"So I get to make the spell?" Dorian said as he bounced on his feet. Rilienus didn't seem to appreciate the movement as he unwound himself from his master's neck. "What do I need to do?"

"This is old magic," Lucretia warned. "It will not work unless you are completely honest with it, Dorian. If you want a girl, say a girl. If you want a boy, say a boy. Elf, dwarf, Qunari, or man. You _must_ be honest with it. Old magic knows truth from deceit and the price you pay for trying to deceive old magic is high."

"But what do I _do_?"

"For every trait, pick an herb or flower and throw it into the bowl. When you're done, all you need to do is place your favorite flower, whole, on top and scatter the contents to the wind."

Dorian nodded vigorously as he pushed his mother out the door. Lucretia laughed at his ferociousness and allowed herself to be barred from the room. It did not, however, stop her from listening at the door.

"It has to be a boy, Rilienus, but I don't care what he is. I think he's a man though." There was a long pause with the only sounds being footsteps moving back and forth across the greenhouse. "Yes, a man. And he'll have hair and eyes as gold as the sun. And- And his hair will be curly. Like the noodles the nanny makes." Lucretia snorted at her son's description and was glad he merely liked to read books and not write them.

Silas yawned at Lucretia's side, curling up at her feet. He either disapproved of Lucretia's actions or was entirely disinterested. It was hard to tell with the black fox.

"When we first meet he'll hug me, too. He's got to be strong. Oh! And his familiar will be giant! Able to carry you in its mouth, at least, Rilienus. But it has got to like you, his giant familiar. Nonnegotiable." Dorian's voice seemed proud to have not wavered on the last word. "He'll be smart, too. As smart as mother, but a better chess player than her.

"And he'll take me away from here," Dorian said in a whisper that rent at Lucretia's heart. "He'll let me go on adventures whenever I want and he'll always be the first one to make sure I return home safe.

"He'll have a scar right here." Dorian must have pointed out the location to Rilienus, but Lucretia wasn't able to see. "That way I'll know him when I see him. And lastly, he will never, ever, cheat at cards. Or anything else. But he'd let me get away with it if I did."

Lucretia left the door when she heard the sound of a window open and waited for Dorian to call her back in to the greenhouse.

* * *

A teary smile appeared on Lucretia's face a year later when Dorian told her he was going to grow up to be just like his father. She reached for a bottle of alcohol more often than not as Halward shaped and molded his son to be the next Archon of the Tevinter Imperium.

A vindictive smile replaced Lucretia's expression when Dorian came in to his teens and rebelled against his father's expectations. As Dorian found every excuse to drink away his nights and drag the family name through the mud, Lucretia couldn't help but be a little proud.

When Dorian sprinted from the house with a staff in his hand, blood still running down his arm from Halward's foolish blood magic rite, the only thing Lucretia could do was kiss the tears on her son's face and murmur a soft "Until next time" and hope it would be sooner rather than later.


	2. A Noble Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos! They really mean a lot to me and definitely helped push me to write this chapter quickly. So thank you, thank you!
> 
> Originally, Cullen's familiar's name was going to be Rylen for his second-in-command in the Inquisition. It took me more than half of this fic chapter to realize that Rylen and Rilienus sound INCREDIBLY similar. So it had to be changed. Ho-hum.
> 
> Sorry that most of this chapter is just "In Your Heart Shall Burn" verbatim. I promise next chapter will be some actual original work.

Dorian raced down the mountain path, only pausing to hit a demon with a spell or his staff, whatever he could manage better. Rilienus was tucked away in a piece of armor underneath his robes, hissing at all of the jostling. 

"Oh hush," Dorian said as he was forced to stop and cast a lightning cage behind him, trapping most of the trailing demons. "If you were of any use to me, you'd be a horse instead."

Rilienus hissed threateningly and Dorian knew he'd get rather viciously squeezed for the insult later. The serpent had bit him only once in retaliation when he was younger and it left a scar. It was rather sweet how much Rilienus was still torn up about it. 

A demon swiped at Dorian, grazing his arm but it was hard enough to hurt. Dorian swung his staff to slit the damned thing's throat, not waiting long enough to see if it felled the creature before he resumed sprinting towards the town. Alarm bells had started to ring throughout the valley and that meant the gate, if there was one, would most likely be closed. 

_Damn, damn, damn._ He couldn't exactly fault the gate keepers, but still it was a major inconvenience. He ran, opting to dodge attacks rather than retaliate to save some energy. When the gate came into view his fears were confirmed and amplified. Of course it wouldn't just be the gate. There also have to be three demons and five Venatori agents outside. Apparently they were no longer the town's problem but Dorian's. 

Dorian cast a fireball behind him and hoped it killed the last of the stragglers. He drove into one of the demons who were clawing at the gate, wrenching at its neck with his staff's blade. He cast a fire glyph on the ground in front of him this time, focusing on the demons and Venatori closest to him. The sheer amount of mana that Dorian was going through was incredibly dangerous. He would be asleep for a week to come, he knew. 

One of the Venatori began to cast a spell with was easily dispelled. Two demons hit the fire glyph and exploded which still left six on one. _I need a body. One not too badly charred._

Ice was not Dorian's forte, but he could use it as needed. He cast Winter's Grasp to hold and kill the Venatori mage. The last demon threw out a hand and slammed in to him, luckily after he had finished casting. With a quick spin of his staff, he bashed the creature's head in and reanimated the Venatori's corpse. A fairer fight. 

It didn't take much to bring down the remaining four agents between Dorian and the corpse, but he was left panting and on his knees from the exertion. He swallowed a lyrium potion in one go, more of a necessity if he didn't want to simply keel over, and so close to his destination. 

With one final push, he cast two consecutive fireballs at the door. Too weak to burn, but with just enough force to knock the wood around. "If someone could open this I'd appreciate it," Dorian called through the wood. He was out of breath and the run and spells had exhausted him beyond anything he knew. The army behind him was a far more pressing issue than his fatigue and is shaky body would simply need to deal with it. 

Miraculously, the wooden gates opened and out stepped an elven woman and her halla along with a man and a ridiculously over-sized lion. Both man and woman looked at the demonic bodies around him in amazement before settling their eyes on Dorian. 

_They should see the amount of bodies behind me,_ Dorian thought. With a large amount of effort Dorian stabbed his staff into the ground and pulled himself up with it. 

"Ah. I'm here to warn you." Standing was a poor decision, if the blackness that swam through his eyes was any indication. "Fashionably late, I'm afraid," he said as he swayed.

He very nearly made a rather inglorious faceplant into the ground and would have if it weren't for the man. Lion Man wrapped one arm around Dorian as he righted him with the other. The lion and halla prowled around Dorian's sides, looking concerned if that were possible. At the very least, they looked ready to catch Dorian if he fell either of their ways. 

"Mite exhausted," Dorian said as he found his footing once more. "Don't mind me." The man and halla backed off once Dorian was standing but the giant lion resolutely stayed at Dorian's side. He composed himself once more, straightening up as he dug the blade of his staff deeper in the ground. "My name is Dorian Pavus and I bring grave news from Redcliffe."

Dorian got his first real good look at the man. Attractive, terrible fur at his neck, and most likely a soldier of some sort. The plate armor practically screamed that it was trying to be Templar armor without being Templar armor. 

He switched his gaze to the woman and her halla. The halla itself was not pure white like the few he had seen on his travels but a slight yellow or maybe even gold. The woman had two daggers at her back, a piercing gaze, and a tattoo on her face that reminded him of vines that would ensnare unknowing passerbys in thorns. This was the Herald he had heard about. 

"An army of rebel mages _right_ behind me. They are under the command of the Venatori in service of something called the Elder One." He turned his gaze back to the advancing army and the two emerging figures who were stepping onto the outcropping. "The woman is Calpernia, she commands the Venatori. For that," Dorian said while he pointed. He wasn't sure it was a person at all, and was fairly confident it was some sort of intelligent demon or darkspawn. "The Elder One." 

There were lights in the hills from the mages, an army of enormous size was amassed in such a short amount of time. All to follow this Elder One who looked like the last thing anyone would willingly follow. "They were already marching on Haven. I risked my life to get here first." There. Maybe they wouldn't kick him out for his status as a Vint. 

The Herald looked at Dorian curiously and then nodded to herself. "Cullen give me a plan. Anything."

The man, Cullen, looked to the Herald with a grimace on his face. "Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle." So he must be the leader of the army, though what a Templar was doing leading a blasphemous army was anyone's guess. "Get out there and hit that force with everything you can."

The man turned from the Herald and Dorian, unsheathing his sword as he called to his men. "Soldiers! Gather the villagers. Fortify and watch for advance forces. Inquisition! With the Herald! For you life! For all of us!" 

The soldiers at Cullen's back cheered and began to carry out orders. The Herald herself looked back to Dorian and bowed her head with a small smile. 

"Thank you, Dorian, for warning us." Dorian only bowed his head and hoped that his one noble deed in life would not be his last. "Liam will take you to the Chantry. If you can, help others make it there, but don't over exert yourself. You've done more than enough."

The lion, Liam apparently, began to butt Dorian with his head and considering the lion was up to his shoulder, it was not exactly gentle. The Herald leapt onto her golden halla and galloped away, the soldiers moved out of her way with ease and apparent practice. 

"Liam, is it?" The lion rubbed its head against Dorian's hand a few times until Dorian understood that Liam wanted him to thread his fingers through Liam's mane. "I can walk, you know." The lion gave him the best 'I really don't care look' that Dorian had seen outside a mirror. 

The walk to the Chantry was easier with his leonine walking companion. Rilienus slithered out of his armor to hang around Dorian's neck, flicking his tongue in the mage's ear. "I'm fine. A bed and some wine would be marvelous, though." 

The soldiers parted and raced around the town helping who they could. There were a few Venatori about who were easily dispatched by the soldiers. As they got closer to the Chantry the people became more and more frantic. 

The ground shook terribly and Dorian grabbed onto Liam a lot harder than he meant to. Dorian swung his gaze to watch a man-made avalanche bury the Venatori army. It was an absolutely beautiful sight. 

Until the dragon came.

An honest to the Maker fucking high dragon. 

Rilienus hissed and dove back underneath Dorian's armor like the coward he was while Liam bared his teeth and growled. If people were frantic before it was an all out race to the Chantry now. 

"Liam," Dorian said and pulled on the lion's mane. There was a Chantry man trying to take on a Venatori spy who managed to make it this deep inside the walls. There was a spell on Dorian's lips to cast but Liam bounded out of Dorian's grasp and rent the Venatori to pieces in his large maw. There was a distinct crunch of bones that Dorian tried valiantly to ignore. Dorian stumbled over to the man, stepping over a severed arm. The man shrugged off his help but walked with Dorian to the Chantry. A gray parrot flapped in a frenzy near the mage's face, clearly the man's familiar who rightfully worried for his master.

The Chantry was tiny and clearly didn't see much use as a place of worship. The benches were covered in various weapons and armor, along with tools to help build the town. Liam trotted up beside them, his fur matted with blood and bits of flesh. He looked pretty proud of himself. "Yes, yes, you're quite the fearsome cat." Dorian could swear the lion preened under the praise as he took position by the doors. 

The Chantry man saw to those he could, holding his side as he did so. Dorian stayed close but also a distance away. He was still a Tevinter mage who quite literally just showed up. Not exactly the most trustworthy thing to be while the town burned around them. Soldiers pushed open the door to the Chantry and the man of cloth walked to the door to usher in the Herald and her friends.

"Move," the man said. "Keep going. The Chantry is your shelter." Everyone ran past him, not even paying attention to the man who was dying. 

The Herald ran in the door at the same time the man of cloth began to fall. Dorian raced forward and grabbed the man, supporting all of his weight despite the fact that Dorian still desperately needed a bed with silk sheets. 

"A brave man," Dorian said, perhaps a little vindictively. Was this the Inquisition that would leave its own members behind? "He stood against a Venatori."

"Briefly," the man said as Dorian set him on a nearby chair. "I am no Templar."

Cullen raced forward from somewhere in the Chantry and how in Andraste's name did he beat Dorian to the building? "Herald! Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us. There has been no communication. No demands. Only advance after advance."

Dorian snorted. Did they expect anything from Darkspawn? "There was no bargaining with the mages, either." That had rather been disastrous when Dorian attempted to do that weeks ago. "This Elder One takes what it wants. From what I gathered in Redcliffe, it marched all of this way to take your Herald."

"If it will save these people, he can have me," the Herald said. 

Maker save him from idealistic Southerns. "An assassin might take you up on that. But this force has not seemed concerned about specifics. And such a promising start with the landslide," Dorian chuckled. It was a rather ingenious plan with the landslide. "If only trebuchets remained an option."

"They are," Cullen said in apparent realization. Liam came up beside his master who seemed nonplussed about the blood dripping from his familiar's fur. "If we turn the last of them to the mountains above us." 

"We're overrun," the Herald protested. "To hit the enemy, we'd bury Haven."

"This is not survivable now. The only choice left is how spitefully we end this," Cullen hissed back to the Herald. 

From blind idealism to pure pessimism. Dorian did not cross Thedas itself just to have some soldier tell someone that a suicide mission was the only option. He rose from his position next to the man of cloth to confront this pessimistic commander and the so-called Herald of Andraste. 

"Well, that's not acceptable. I didn't race here only to have you drop rocks on my head."

"Should we submit?" Cullen asked, scowling at Dorian. There it was. The distrust of Dorian and his countrymen apparent in Cullen's expression. "Let him kill us?"

"Dying is typically a last resort, not first!" Liam prowled around Cullen and Dorian, ready to step in between the two men if they went any closer. "For a Templar, you think like a blood mage!" Dorian was sure of it now, could smell the faint traces of lyrium around the man. 

Cullen glared at the mage and stepped into his space. Rilienus slithered from his place in Dorian's armor to curl about his neck and hissed and snapped at the Templar, warning him to stay back. It was an effective maneuver considering how deadly a Tevene Serpent's venom was. With the amount of control Rilienus had with his venom--and Dorian knew because they had experimented extensively--he could probably down the giant lion in one bite, let alone the human soldier. 

"There is a path," the Chantry man said. And so it was agreed that the Herald would go on a suicide mission with some of her soldiers while the man of cloth led the Inquisition through some paths. 

This is definitely not how Dorian imagined his one noble deed in life. He had intended to save the Herald of Andraste, not help send her to her death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so very loosely edited, so if you see any errors please let me know! 
> 
> Also, I was trying to decide what to name Cullen's lion and asked my husband. I very nearly went with Rory on his suggestion. Get it? Roar-y? I was so proud of his pun. 
> 
> As always, your comments and kudos keep me going! I love you all for reading so much! You can find me on [ tumblr ](http://www.the-lady-magician.tumblr.com) where I am asking for prompts (and working on the ones I have, I promise!) and reblog all the Dragon Age things!


	3. Unwanted Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you! You all are so incredibly kind and I'm so glad that you're enjoying this story so far. I have to admit, I'm having a blast writing it. It feels a lot softer than _A Delicate Arrangement_. Sort of like a fairy tale retelling, probably because of the familiars. 
> 
> Finally on to some original content! Also, I apologize ahead of time for any canonical errors I may make. I am just barely playing through the Templars so some of the differences between the recruiting the mages and Templars might be wrong. Please point them out!

Snow. Dorian couldn’t have run to Antiva, Nevarra, or even Kirkwall. No. He had to go entirely across Thedas to arrive at the Frostback Mountains because Alexius couldn’t accept that his son was dying. It was a tragedy, of course. Felix was the absolute best of what Tevinter had to offer, but it couldn’t be stopped. Not by this Darkspawn who would usurp the Maker, at any rate.

All of the livestock and familiars carried what supplies they could across the mountains to Maker knows where. Dorian stayed to the back of the group and hadn’t heard anything of their destination. He seriously doubted there was one with the various rumors that flew about.

By the time the soldiers and townspeople stopped to make camp, Dorian was dead on his feet. His vision grayed on the edges and he couldn’t feel his feet but he moved forward on sheer adrenaline. The second he stopped walking, he feared he would collapse. Rilienus was constantly slithering around his arms and chest, most likely attempting to warm himself with the movement. The soldiers began to erect tents and Dorian was exhausted enough to snort at his own vulgar joke.

“Oy! Vint!” called a feminine voice from a few yards away. Dorian turned to the voice and saw an elf in the absolute worst outfit with the most atrocious haircut he’d ever had the displeasure of seeing. She carried what looked to be a large beaver in both her arms, swaying the animal as she nodded her head in beckoning. “Come ‘ere.”

Dorian gave the tents a wistful look, but they were still awhile away from being able to be slept in. He made his way over to the strange elf who sat by a campfire. She was accompanied by a beardless dwarf who grinned widely at Dorian’s approach and the red-tailed hawk perched on the dwarf’s shoulder cocked its head in Dorian’s direction. Dorian struggled to recall any dwarf he knew having a bird as a familiar.

“Hello,” Dorian said as he watched the dwarf tend to the fire. The beaver looking thing in the elf’s arms wasn’t actually a beaver. It had fur, a bill, webbed feet, and Dorian wasn’t sure exactly what it was supposed to be except perhaps a summoning gone wrong.

“You’re the Vint, yeah? The one who warned us about the mages.”

“I suppose I am.” Dorian bowed low to the dwarf and elf before taking a seat next to the elf on the log. “Dorian Pavus, at your service.”

“No offense,” the dwarf said as he sat on Dorian’s other side. “But you look like you’ve seen better days. But where are my manners? Varric Tethras. Rogue, storyteller, and occasional fire-starter. My elven friend here is Sera.”

“A pleasure,” Dorian said with a slight inclination of his head. “Avalanches, Venatori, Elder Ones, and dragons do make for rather long days. I’m not quite sure what I was expecting when I came to the South. Quaint little farm towns, I suppose. You _do_ know how to make things interesting in the South.”

“I think this one’s all yours, actually,” Varric said with a shake of his head. He regaled Dorian with the tale of Corypheus as he saw it at the Herald’s side. Corypheus. One of the original magisters who stormed the Golden City and corrupted it.

Of fucking course.

Was there anything terrible in this world that Tevinter did not have their hands in? The short answer was ‘no’ while Dorian supposed the long answer might be more akin to ‘Probably not, but we’re rather hard pressed to find evidence pointing to the contrary.’

“Do you ever think the Maker hates this specific time period?” Dorian asked, joking only a little. “Darkspawn, Blights, high dragons showing again, and now dead magisters risen from the grave.”

“Bit dramatic for it.”

“Yes, well, men who would be gods call for drama, I suppose. Curious as to why Corypheus would return now. Couldn’t have been purely for the Conclave.”

Varric looked away from the mage for split second in a way that clearly said he knew. At the very least, he had an idea. “Who knows? Bad luck, I guess.”

“Quite.” If the dwarf were playing for aloofness, he failed at it rather spectacularly. Luckily for him, the conversation was cut short by a myriad of voices rising. The message was unintelligible at first but once word spread through camp it became incredibly clear.

‘She’s alive.’

Sera was off in a flash without a word, the beaver/duck following behind her at a fast-paced waddle. Varric continued to sit with Dorian but his red-tailed hawk took off after Sera.

The dwarf beside him sighed and shot him a despondent smile. “Good thing about people with terrible luck. They never seem to die.” He nodded his head towards a nearby tent. “Get some rest. Never seen a Tevinter look so pale.”

“I’m sure I still look dashing,” Dorian replied but took the tent. It was freezing when he wasn’t around the fire and he had zero mana to spare to heat the blankets. It didn’t particularly matter since he fell asleep within seconds.

…Until the Southerns began to sing.

Yes, yes, the Herald was alive and well but it was the dead of night and some people were rightfully exhausted. Rilienus hissed from his position on Dorian’s chest and began to slither off and nearly through the tent’s flap.

“Get back here,” Dorian mumbled as he shifted on the ground. Not that there was a more comfortable position on the ground. “You can’t frighten the Southerners because they awakened you.”

Rilienus looked back at Dorian, raising his body halfway off the ground to stare the mage in the face. “No,” Dorian said. Rilienus didn’t alter his position except to cock his head back towards the tent’s opening. “One scale leaves this tent and you will need to find another person to use as a mode of transport.”

With a hiss, Rilienus slithered back to curl against Dorian’s chest in defeat and the pair of them fell back into an easy sleep.

* * *

“Think we could leave the Vint?”

“Don’t think the Herald would be too happy, chief.”

“Yeah, but…Vint….”

“Herald likes me just fine. Plus, Commander says he needs to be up. Reckon you wouldn’t want to go against him.”

“Fluffy could take that lion on any day.”

Dorian would have turned over to bury his head underneath the pillow if he didn’t feel Rilienus curled up on his chest underneath his robe. Crushing his familiar was not how he wanted to start the day. Instead, he blearily opened his eyes to see a hulking qunari and a fellow Tevinter in his tent.

“If you’re going to kill me, please do it before I get up and save me the hassle.”

“And he talks,” the qunari said with a quirk of his lips. “Company’s moving. If you want to tag along then your pampered ass needs to start moving.”

“If I don’t, could you do me the courtesy of leaving the tent behind?” Dorian asked as he sat up, hands bracing himself as his limbs felt weighed down. “I’ve grown rather fond of it.”

“Yeah, well,” the qunari replied with a sly grin. “Someone’s grown rather fond of you and I don’t think he’ll take no for an answer.” The Tevinter and qunari left the tent with a knowing smile passed between them.

Rilienus waited until the tent flap closed to uncurl from Dorian’s chest and coil around his neck. How the snake seemed to always know when people were in his presence was baffling to Dorian.

“They should all be rather fond of me,” Dorian grumbled as he stood, swaying on his feet before grabbing his staff to use like a cane. He conjured a small fire in his hand, just to see how much mana he had left. The flame sputtered in his hand before disappearing altogether. He had mastered that trick when he was seven, so it wasn’t exactly a pleasant verdict. Rilienus tightened against Dorian’s neck a small bit before releasing the hold, the closest the snake could get to a hug.

“No matter. If someone comes too close you will bite them, yes? The revenge you wanted to inflict last night.” The only answer Dorian received was a pleased hiss in his ear.

Using more strength than he was willing to admit, Dorian pulled himself out of the tent and into the biting cold. Soldiers gathered the supplies and tents and some moved in quickly behind Dorian, taking the tent he was just sleeping in down with an impressive amount of efficiency. The single most noticeable thing outside the tent was the giant lion sitting on its haunches in front of Dorian, looking up at the mage expectantly.

It was amazing how expressive the large cat managed to be. Dorian imagines that if he were a person, Liam would be impatiently tapping his foot. A quick glance around the camp confirmed that the lion’s master was nowhere to be found.

No wonder the qunari and Tevinter were practically smirking at one another. Dorian could nearly hear the rumors flying around the campsite at that moment. Familiars were particular about who they interacted with. Rilienus only interacted with Dorian and—when the snake was feeling generous—Dorian’s mother. He preferred to hide himself in the various nooks and crannies of Dorian’s clothes.

The fact that the Commander of the Inquisition’s familiar took a shine to a mage from Tevinter was going to be gossip fodder for the next few weeks.

“You’re making a scene,” Dorian muttered to the large cat as he walked past the beast. His grip on his staff was tight and the skin of his knuckles threatened to break. He could walk those three steps past the lion though, dammit.

Liam stood the instant Dorian walked by him and kept pace by the mage at his side. Rilienus slithered around Dorian’s neck and down his arm to peer at their newcomer. He stayed far enough away that he wasn’t a threat during his inspection. Unsatisfied, the snake curled up Dorian’s arm and around his staff to take a new angle to dissect the lion’s intentions.

“Don’t you have a master?” Dorian asked as Rilienus went back to settle around Dorian’s neck. _Traitor,_ Dorian thought as the snake hid once more underneath his collar. “Surely he needs your attention more than I.”

Liam didn’t acknowledge the mage except to duck under Dorian’s free hand so that he could be used as support. Dorian resolutely looked ahead, ignoring any and all looks the passersby gave him. He did manage to walk much faster with the lion’s help. Any time he tried to unwind his hand from Liam’s mane, the insufferable cat would simply move closer to Dorian until he nearly toppled the mage. Dorian would be forced to steady himself against the lion and Liam would settle a decent distant away once more. A rather clever plan that Dorian loathed.

Why wasn’t Rilienus at least threatening the lion?

“Curly’s lion still around, huh?” came the dwarf’s voice to Dorian’s side. How the dwarf manage to sneak up on him was a question for another day. There was a curious smirk on Varric’s face and he looked from Dorian to Liam in the same way Rilienus had looked at the lion. Calculatingly, cataloging. “Wouldn’t leave the outside of that tent once he found you.”

“Yes, well, now that he has seen me, he can leave.”

“You tell that to the horse-sized lion,” Varric scoffed. “He’s probably still picking Vint out of his teeth.”

“And where is this illustrious Commander? Should he come fetch his wayward housecat?”

If Liam could laugh then he would. The best the lion could do was shoot him a look that screamed ‘You’re adorable and I could eat you whole.’

“Don’t think Curly minds much. Seemed okay with it earlier, at least. You sure your familiar isn’t off gallivanting with our ‘illustrious Commander?’” Varric asked with a raised eyebrow. It was incredibly satisfying to watch the smug look get wiped from the dwarf’s face when Rilienus slid back out in the open and down Dorian’s arm. “Oh shit!” the dwarf shouted as he scrambled back a few feet. The hawk on his shoulder took flight and let out a thunderous screech at the sight of the black serpent.

Dorian may not have an overly large housecat with boundary issues, but he did have a rather overly dramatic snake up his sleeve that happened to be the most venomous creature in all of Thedas.

Unwinding his fingers from Liam’s mane, Dorian ran his hand across Rilienus’s back. He traced his fingertips across the gold diamond patterns found on the snake’s body. “Don’t listen to the mean dwarf. You’re a magnificent creature,” Dorian cooed to the serpent who did a great job of looking properly despondent. “Varric, may I introduce my familiar Rilienus. Rilienus, this incredibly rude dwarf is Varric.”

“Uh,” Varric said as he stepped closer, hands out in a parody of surrendering. The dwarf managed to stay out of Rilienus’s striking distance. “He’s not gonna bite, right? Kinda grown fond of the whole ‘being alive’ thing.”

“Unless you decide to aim that contraption at me,” Dorian said as he nodded to the crossbow strapped on Varric’s back. “Then no.” Rilienus proved Dorian’s point by looking the dwarf up and down before turning back to Dorian with a rather impressively haughty look. He slithered back inside his pouch underneath Dorian’s shirt.

“So long as we’re introducing,” Varric said with a final wary glance at Dorian’s chest. “Sparkler, meet Garrett.” Varric nodded towards the hawk that was still flying near the dwarf.

“I’m Sparkler?”

“Embrace it.”

“Better than my nickname,” came a voice from beyond Liam at Dorian’s other side. “’Curly’ doesn’t fit anymore,” the Commander said with a smile aimed at Dorian and Varric.

“Hey, all my nicknames are brilliant. I’m still holding out, Curly.”

Cullen rolled his eyes at Varric as the dwarf turned and walked away, leaving Dorian with the Commander and his rather persistent cat.

“Ah, Commander. Would you mind terribly rescuing me from your overly large tabby?” Dorian asked. Dorian had been with the Inquisition less than a day and already he had gone from a Tevinter magister to having the Commander’s familiar become overly friendly with him.

Dorian nearly preferred the magister reputation. At least then people would be suitably frightened of him.

“He’s bothering you?” Cullen asked with such earnest concern in his eyes that it nearly stopped Dorian cold.

_Maker save me from Southern Chantry boys._

“Is he-? Commander-.”

“Cullen, please.”

“ _Commander_ ,” Dorian stressed. “Despite what your lion may believe, I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

“Is that why you’re holding onto your staff like that?” Cullen asked and gestured towards Dorian’s right hand. Fine, he may have been gripping onto his staff a bit too tightly but that did not mean he needed another man’s familiar helping him out. “It’s remarkable you can stand after last night.”

Dorian bit his inner lip to keep his tongue from turning Cullen’s innocuous phrase into vulgarity. Not that the phrase didn’t absolutely beg for it. Soldiers already gathered around the both of them while failing to look properly busy. It would not help the situation if Dorian made a rude comment on what exactly they should have been doing last night to make him unable to stand.

“I’m rather impressive like that,” Dorian deflected. “But surely you should take Liam and lead the way to wherever you’ve decided to head. A Commander commanding his forces, after all.”

“Solas is leading the Herald to a stronghold. I can walk with my soldiers.”

For the love of…."Commander, while I…appreciate yours and Liam’s kindness, I must decline. You can’t be deaf to what your soldiers are talking about this morning.”

Cullen waved his words away. “They are more concerned about the Herald.”

“And what will they talk about later, hm? The Commander’s lion and the Tevinter mage who suddenly appeared the eve of battle?”

Cullen’s face tightened as he took in Dorian’s words. The Commander bowed his head in acquiescence. “You’re right, of course. Shall we see if any soldiers need our help, Liam?”

The lion looked between Cullen and Dorian and stared at the mage for a few seconds. Liam’s body seemed to slump entirely and he padded behind Cullen, staring at the ground as he slowly followed the Commander. Cullen attempted to reach out to pet his familiar but the lion ducked away from his master’s hand.

Cullen and Liam made it a few yards away before Liam stopped. He looked back at Dorian, taking an excruciating amount of time to raise his eyes to the mage. Dorian could swear even the lion’s eyebrows furrowed and golden eyes were watery. The mage would laugh if it weren’t so entirely obvious what the lion was doing. But the whole display was rather working in Liam’s favor as more onlookers stopped to watch the exchange.

“Oh, fine,” Dorian huffed. “Get back here if you wish, you giant oaf of a cat.”

Liam perked up and trotted back over to Dorian’s side, curling about the mage’s hip and underneath his hand.

“I know what you’re trying,” Dorian hissed to the lion. “You’re atrocious at it, you wretched thing.”

Liam purred underneath Dorian’s hand and bared his teeth. It was a reaction the Commander couldn’t see and Dorian hoped none of the soldiers could either.

Cullen, for his part, rubbed at the back of his neck and gave Dorian a small smile. It made the Commander’s face light up and despite last night’s stress, Cullen looked years younger and far lighter than he had moments before.

Dorian was forced to amend his earlier thought. _Maker save me from **gorgeous** Southern Chantry boys and their manipulative lions._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! I know it took a while, and I apologize. I don't think the next few chapters will take this long. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! I really do appreciate kudos and comments. They help me write so much more than I can ever express to you! You can find me on [ tumblr ](http://the-lady-magician.tumblr.com) where I take prompts and reblog all the Dragon Age things! Plus, it's the easiest way to talk to me and I want to speak to all of you!


	4. Southerners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. This took more than two months. I'm SO SUPER SORRY! It's been crazy and I'm trying to catch up but life, man, life.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for your patience!!!

Chapter Four

Solas and Lavellan led the troops through the damned snow and slush for days. It wouldn't have been a bad trek if not for the snow and the cold and the 'Andraste knows where we're going' feeling. Not to mention the lion who quite literally never left Dorian's side, even when the mage was walking upright and fine, with no need for help.

This of course meant that the Southerners thought they could speak with him because Liam thought he was an ally. Not just an ally but apparently a companion. If Dorian was asked one more time if Magisters really preformed blood magic in the street in Minrathous, he was going to murder them. And Liam. And the blasted Commander who threw him rather handsome smiles every now and again. 

The journey was made bearable by the strange elf and her 'platypus,' which she assured Dorian was an actual animal and not a summoning gone wrong, the dwarf and his hawk, and the Iron Bull and his small dragon called 'Fluffy.' 

Despite the amount of teasing Dorian put up with from the three of them, he found their company to be preferable to the whispering of the soldiers. Not to mention the stares he received when the Commander got anywhere in his vicinity. He may or may not have been purposefully avoiding Cullen for the very reason. 

The look Liam shot him whenever he started to hurry away let the mage know that he was not as subtle as he would like to be. 

Rilienus still appeared wary of the lion, but he allowed him near Dorian without much protest. It was far different from how he treated Sera and the Bull, who he openly snapped at a few times. That was more in tune with how the snake typically reacted around new people and Dorian assured the elf and qunari that Rilienus would not bite them. 

"So you're not just a Vint, huh?" the Bull asked when he first saw Rilienus. "You're like...a super Vint. Vint snake and all." Neither Rilienus nor Dorian had taken well to the accusation, but it was a bit unavoidable. The only way Dorian could have a more Tevinter animal as his familiar would be if he were to have a dragon. 

A fact Dorian pointed out to Bull. 

"Hey! Whoa!" Bull called and he put his hands over Fluffy's ears, if the thing even had ears. "You keep your Vint-y hands off dragons. There's nothing Vint about dragons."

"Except our insignia and banners and general history, but I can see how you would say that," Dorian replied. Bull muttered something about how Tevinter couldn't claim everything. The qunari could have the dragons for all Dorian cared. 

The days and weeks stretched on and just as the entirety of the group was getting to the 'This is hopeless' phase, the hold came into view. A perfectly good--if a bit rundown--massive keep that only had a valley and a frozen lake to its entrance. At its back was the impenetrable Frostback Mountain range. A single bridge connected the land to the gates, that could maybe hold three horseback riders abreast. Four if they were incredibly skilled riders.

In short, it was the single most defensible keep that Dorian ever had the privilege of seeing. Which begged the question, who the hell forgets about the most defensible stronghold in all of Thedas? 

Southerners, apparently. 

"If we start walking now," Dorian muttered to Rilienus as they walked the stone bridge, "we could make it back to Minrathous before winter." Not that winter didn't seem to be a relative term in the South. Liam bumped into the back of Dorian's leg as if to say 'Keep moving.' Unfortunately it was towards the keep and not at all in the direction of Minrathous. Rilienus let out an amused hiss and resumed his slithering about Dorian's shoulders, raising his body as high as he could to get a good peek of the stronghold.

Skyhold, as it was so dubbed by the bald elf, was in far less disarray than Dorian expected it to be. For a keep forgotten to the ages, it was in surprisingly decent shape. Not _good_ shape by any stretch, but not as bad as Dorian feared. 

As soon as Liam crossed the threshold of Skyhold, he bounded for his master to help inspect the fortifications or some other nonsense. Dorian was simply relieved to be rid of the leonine shadow that seemed to follow him constantly. He took the brief respite to wander about the stronghold and watched the soldiers and Templars unload the animals of their burdens. The sick and wounded were the first to set up camp and Dorian sidled along the medical area hoping no one would see him. A mage he may be, but he was not a healer by any means. He preferred his casting to be done on already dead bodies. 

He made his way into what appeared to be the main hall of the keep. It was in absolute shambles and a few soldiers looked about the debris as if they had no idea where to begin. Dorian didn't envy them the task of making this hold presentable to the nobility they would surely need to appease. 

He walked the garden for a few moments before ultimately deciding that it was not worth the effort of suffering the Chantry Sisters' glares. Rilienus gave a parting hiss to one of the Sister's doves that flew a bit too close for comfort. The fact that the Commander's lion had deemed the Tevinter mage worthy of attention seemed not to sway the Sisters' opinions of him, and that worked well enough for Dorian. It would feel rather odd to be liked by everyone. 

He was supposed to be an evil Tevinter Magister, afterall. 

Solas had already taken up residence in a rotunda, his white wolf prowling about the perimeter. The elf nodded amicably to Dorian, which the Tevinter returned. His wolf seemed to watch him with too bright eyes, dissecting Dorian's soul from his visage. Dorian simply cocked an eyebrow in the wolf's direction, wishing him all the luck in Thedas. 

It was up the stairs that Dorian found what he was looking for, though someone else had already taken up residence in the library he had mentally claimed when he saw the keep. "Herald," Dorian called brightly, looking at the small elf who was relaxing in a large armchair, her golden halla lying at her feet. "Fond of libraries?"

Lavellan flashed Dorian a pained smile. "Lavellan, please. I don't want to be the Herald of anyone. And I'm fond of libraries?" she said, though it distinctly sounded like a question. Dorian tilted his head and did a poor job of hiding his smile at the Herald's indecision. "I'm hiding," Lavellan admitted after a long sigh. "So many 'thank you for leading us here' when I walked in and I didn't do anything. I just walked with Solas and hoped to all the gods above he knew where the hell we were going."

"You'll make a marvelous leader, then. It's all taking credit for other people's hard work, smiling, and moving along. You're simply following in greater footsteps," Dorian said as he walked into the library proper. The golden halla raised its head towards Dorian and seemed to extend a horn when Dorian got within touching distance. Rilienus slithered from Dorian's shoulder to his arm so that he could wrap around the offered halla horn. The serpent wrapped around the halla's neck and eventually came to curl into a ball atop the creature's stomach. If Lavellan's familiar were perturbed by the venomous creature, it didn't show it. The halla just rested its chin atop the coiled snake and the pair seemed to relax and rest. 

Insane. The South was completely insane and clearly had affected his familiar. First, he allowed the damned lion to push Dorian around and now Rilienus suddenly decided it was perfectly natural to become instant friends with the Herald's familiar. 

He could have stayed in Redcliffe. Probably should have. 

The Herald joined Dorian in staring at their familiars before she burst out laughing. "I suppose I've seen weirder things lately. You seem to have a way with familiars, Lord Pavus." 

"Dorian, please," Dorian replied. 'Lord Pavus' brought up images of unattainable standards and desperation. "Truly, I think you Southerners have poisoned Rilienus against me."

"You're sure? Because Liam was fine on his own until you showed up," Lavellan said with a poorly concealed smirk. "And Auriel tends to just snort in disapproval whenever any other familiars get close to her. Oh, don't give me that look," Lavellan said as her golden halla shot her an unamused look. "You're stuck up and everyone knows it."

"I can't fault that oaf of a lion and your halla for having good taste."

"Are you saying that Rilienus has bad taste for liking Auriel?"

"Mmm, more referring to his ambivalence towards the housecat."

Lavellan snorted and Dorian couldn't help but smile back. So this was the great Herald of Andraste. He could certainly see why she had gathered so many to her cause. "If those are the types of housecats you shems create, maybe you're better than I thought."

"Liam's unique," came the one voice that Dorian desperately did not want to hear. But no, he turned around and saw the amused Commander of the Inquisition and his large shadow. "Not a true 'housecat.'"

"Oh, I don't know," Dorian shot back. "He's as docile as one."

Liam flopped down on the stone floor beside Cullen, dust billowing about him as he curled and writhed on the floor like a cat. Never mind that the giant lion nearly bowled over his master more than a few times, Cullen seemed to take it all in stride. 

"Herald, I am to escort you to the courtyard."

"No," Lavellan said as she attempted to burrow into the highback chair. "You're going to make me hold a sword larger than me." 

Honestly, do these Southerners not watch what they say? At this point, they're simply begging for Dorian to make a crude joke. 

"The sword is a symbol," Cullen protested, though he did it through mostly an amused voice. Liam continued to roll on the ground, making sure to catch Dorian's eyes every once in a while. 

Maker, Dorian hated that cat. 

"A symbol of me falling on my face because it weighs more than I do," Lavellan whined, but she stood. Auriel got to her hooves as well, Rilienus coiling around her neck to wrap around an antler. It may have been Dorian's imagination, but Liam looked marginally offended. "Rilienus," Lavellan mock whispered to Dorian's familiar as Auriel walked next to her. "Bite the Commander. We'll make a run for it."

Cullen rolled his eyes but looked at Dorian as if to ask if Rilienus really would bite him. Dorian shrugged his shoulders before crossing his arms. Rilienus would never, but what good was having a venomous snake if you couldn't threaten people with it? 

The serpent, for his part, raised himself off of Auriel's antler to look at Cullen in the eye throwing in a hiss for good measure. While it would have been understandable for Cullen to back off with a Tevinter serpent a foot away from his face, all the Commander did was tense. Liam, on the other hand, was up from the floor in an instant, growling at Dorian's familiar. 

Rilienus moved closer to Cullen's face, willfully ignoring the lion that came up to the Commander's incredibly broad shoulders. Without any warning, Rilienus flicked his tongue out at Cullen, managing to lick the Fereldan's upper lip where a small scar was. 

"Rilienus!" Dorian called through the Herald's laughter as Rilienus continued to lick at handsome man's lips, despite Cullen trying to move out of Rilienus's reach. Dorian raced forward and grabbed at the snake, pulling him off the halla's antler and away from the poor man. "Apologies, Commander, I don't know what he's thinking." Dorian shot his familiar the best 'What the hell are you doing face?' he could muster, which Rilienus seemed to shoot right back at him. 

"Don't trouble yourself," Cullen said as he wiped at his lip. 

Rilienus changed tactics and instead turned in Dorian's hand to lick at his lip. "Stop that," Dorian hissed to his familiar. Lavellan's laughter didn't die down and even Cullen seemed mildly amused by it, though Dorian was less than pleased. First Liam and now Rilienus decided to do his best to Orlesian kiss Cullen. 

With a low hiss, Rilienus squirmed in Dorian's grasp until the Tevinter released his grip on the snake, allowing Rilienus to descend to the ground. Once on the floor, Rilienus began to slither away, only stopping to look back and hiss in Liam's direction. The lion moved to face the snake and trotted after him with a quick backwards glance to the two humans and one elf. 

"I've no idea what's going on anymore," Dorian said finally after Lavellan stopped giggling. "If anyone needs me, I'll be here. Do give my regard to the giant sword, Lavellan. Commander, if your housecat comes back, I will send him in your direction."

"Thank you, Lord Pavus," Cullen said with a smile. He turned down the stairs, Lavellan trailing behind him. Dorian collapsed in the armchair. Annoying lions, fickle snakes, forgotten strongholds, and stupid handsome Chantry boys. 

Fuck Ferelden and everything in it. Well, nearly everything. Dorian was in it, after all. 

Dorian sat in the chair for a half an hour, listening to the cheers from the courtyard which presumably meant that Lavellan did not fall when she raised her symbolic sword. It was another half an hour before Rilienus returned with Liam, Dorian's spellbook clenched in the lion's giant maw and Rilienus hiding in Liam's mane. The peace Dorian had experienced within the hour was shattered so quickly. 

"You will ruin the pages, you oaf." Liam doesn't seem to pay attention but he does place the book gently on Dorian's lap. It was not wet at all, but there were new puncture wounds in the leather covers. "Yes, you found my spellbook from my belongings in the courtyard. Would you like a gold star?" 

Liam moved to Dorian's side and Rilienus slithered off the lion, opening the leather bound book in Dorian's lap. All of the spells Dorian had ever crafted were in that book, back from his days with his tutors. There was one for unlimited sweets that he could never quite perfect. 

Rilienus seemed intent on a specific page though, flipping through most of the pages until he landed on the one he wanted. Dorian picked up the book with a sigh, ignoring the headache that was building. 

It was a page when Dorian was going through his calligraphy phase. Some weird herbal spell that Dorian couldn't remember casting. 

**A new sort of love**

**Seeds of Prophet's Laurel, leaves of Royal Elfroot, a Dragonthorn branch, and a whole vine of Arbor Blessing.**

**He'll have golden eyes, golden hair that's really really curly and he'll be strong, honest, and smart. He'll have a giant familiar who likes Rilienus and won't eat him, even if the familiar could. And he can. Because he's giant. When we first meet, he'll hug me. And he'll never cheat at cards or anything ever, and will let me cheat because he's so nice.**

**I'll know who he is right when I see him because he'll have a scar on his top lip on his right side.**

_Oh,_ Dorian thinks, as he runs his finger over the edge of his top lip. The same spot where Rilienus had licked Cullen. His top lip at the right where Cullen bore a small scar. 

_A coincidence. This is just a coincidence. Nothing more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the denial begin!
> 
> Kudos and comments keep me writing, even if you don't think they do. I know this one took forever but I promise they won't in the future!! I love you all for reading this!
> 
> As always, you can find me on [tumblr](http://the-lady-magician.tumblr.com/) where I take prompts and reblog all the Dragon Age things!


	5. Not A Hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to make it up to you guys for waiting so long for the last chapter, so here's a brief chapter before we get into the meat of the story :)
> 
> It has not been edited at all, so I apologize!

"It's not him," Dorian said to the two familiars who were looking up at him expectantly. Rilienus from his position on Dorian's lap and Liam would have rested his head on Dorian's armchair if the lion weren't too large for such an action. "I did not create a man using plants from my mother's garden. For Maker's sake, he must be the same age as me."

Rilienus looked at Dorian with his unblinking eyes and Dorian could swear the blasted serpent was smiling at him. 

**Golden eyes. Golden hair.**

"No," Dorian said as he slammed the book shut and stood. Rilienus plopped onto the floor, hissing his distaste at his master. The snake slithered about the floor, dodging Dorian's footsteps as the mage began to pace. "There is no man I dreamt up come to life. That was a child's fantasy, cast when I barely came into magic!" 

**A giant familiar.**

The words crawled in Dorian's mind and caught in his nerves like ice from a poorly cast Blizzard. "This is ludicrous. As if children can simply create lovers with a few herbs. Not to mention, the Commander does not meet all of the criteria. So he cannot be this wished for man."

Liam walked into Dorian's line of pacing, blocking nearly the whole of the library alcove. The lion gave him a dead stare as Rilienus slithered onto the chair, nudging Dorian's spellbook onto the floor. 

"I do not have to explain anything to you," Dorian told the lion who looked at him so dispassionately. How could Cullen, the Commander of the Inquisition, have this lion as his familiar? The blasted thing had no right to look so smug. "I will not ascribe these traits to a man I've known less than a month." 

Rilienus used his snout to flip open the book once more, the pages seeming to fall to the correct spot as if by magic. **Scar on his top lip on his right side.**

"You will stop this nonsense," Dorian hissed. "I don't need to be lectured about the contents of my own spell book from illiterate familiars." Actually, Dorian had an inkling that Rilienus at least could read at an impressive level for a familiar. But that was neither here nor there. "This says the man will hug me when he sees me. As you were both there for our introduction, I don't need to remind you that _that_ did not happen."

The lion growled in front of Dorian in a way that sounded exactly like a laugh. Liam stood and took a step towards Dorian and the mage would be lying if he said he didn't step back. It was a lion his height stalking towards him, afterall. Without warning, Liam stumbled into him, forcing Dorian to wrap his arms around the lion and try to right the behemoth. 

Not that it helped. The sheer girth of the lion meant that Dorian was tackled to the floor, the cat holding him down with a paw and its head. 

"Vishante kaffas, get off of me you oaf!" 

The damn thing started to purr. 

Dorian tossed his head towards his familiar, trying to get any sort of backup without having to resort to setting one of the most powerful people in the Inquisition's familiar's mane alight. Not that it wasn't an increasingly attractive idea. Instead of backup, Rilienus was pushing the open spellbook towards the trapped mage. Liam picked it up with his canines when the snake was in reach and set it on Dorian's chest. Rilienus soon followed afterwards, slithering onto the only revealed portion of Dorian's front that he could find. 

"I don't know what you both think you're doing with this, but you will let me up or I will burn your mane off," Dorian said to the lion before turning his attention to his own familiar. "And I will freeze your tail."

In retaliation, Rilienus nudged the book closer to Dorian's chin until Dorian could feel the leather cover on his collarbone. Liam simply continued to lay on Dorian, pinning Dorian's legs and entire left arm. 

"Festis bei umo canavarum. Golden hair, golden eyes, scar, that's all well and good, but the man did not hug me. And I would appreciate it if someone were to listen to me! I'm not just speaking to these walls, I'll have you know." 

Rilienus poked Dorian in the nose with the tip of his tail, the sign they had developed long ago when Rilienus wanted Dorian to watch something. The serpent hissed to Liam before raising half his body off of the mage's chest, staring into Dorian's eyes all the while as if to ensure that Dorian was, in fact, watching him. 

Then with an overly dramatic flourish, the snake swayed to the left and collapsed. Or tried to at least, but Liam caught Rilienus in his overlarge free paw. Rilienus hung limp in Liam's leg for a few more seconds before righting himself. Both the serpent and the lion looked at Dorian with the same expression in their eyes. 'Do you understand?'

"I don't understand."

Rilienus stuck out his tongue in Dorian's direction in annoyance, but he and Liam reenacted the same scene at least four more times until Dorian finally understood what they were on about. 

"That is not a hug. I was mana-deprived and more than a little bit out of sorts, if you remember correctly. Just because the Commander caught me does not mean he hugged me. Two completely different things." 

Did Cullen use both hands to right Dorian? No, he couldn't have. Besides, it's not a hug either way. 

"And this is not real magic," Dorian stressed as he mentally tried to push away the memory of meeting Cullen. It wasn't a hug, was it? "Real magic is when I throw a fireball at an oaf of a lion who refuses to get off me." 

Liam fell a bit more against Dorian and Dorian had to amend his earlier thought. The lion was clearly keeping some of his weight off the mage because he was much, much heavier than previously thought. 

Flowers thrown in a bowl was not magic. Not _real_ magic. Herbology was an art for the mages who lacked all talent and thought they could create something where nothing existed. Magic came from the Fade and not a few pieces of greenery beneath the moonlight. 

**Golden eyes. Golden hair. A giant familiar.**

"And you're large, not giant. 'Able to fit Rilienus in his mouth.' Your maw is not large enough for that."

Liam opened that large mouth, showing off just how big it actually was while Rilienus started to slither towards it. He touched the tips of Liam's fangs, apparently fully intent on showing Dorian that he could fit his entire body in Liam's mouth. 

"No, stop you idiot," Dorian called after Rilienus. While the cat had proved to be perfectly harmless so far, it didn't mean Dorian wanted to test it. "Fine, you can fit. It still doesn't mean the Commander is this man. For all I know the Chantry boy might be the biggest cheat in cards this side of the Waking Sea." 

And it wasn't a hug. Catching someone in your arms does not qualify an action to be a hug. Dorian was falling and the Commander caught him. End of story. 

"Do you need any help?"

Oh, for fucking Andraste's sake. "Yes, Commander, actually, I would appreciate it if you could get your brutish familiar off of me before I set him on fire."

Dorian would look up to see Cullen if he could move his neck that much, but with a giant mane blocking the view of the entire doorway, it was a lost cause. 

"Liam," Cullen scolded though he said it through a laugh. "Please get off Lord Pavus."

With a whine, the giant cat stood and Dorian finally could get air in his lungs. Rilienus slithered off of Dorian's chest, pushing the book off the mage as well. Cullen stepped into the library, that Southern Chantry boy sheepish smile set on his face and Dorian felt panic begin to gnaw and hollow out his heart. 

It wasn't a hug. It _wasn't_ a hug. 

"Do you need a hand?" Cullen asked, extending a hand towards the mage. Dorian quickly batted it away and stood, needing to escape. 

_It wasn't real. It wasn't a hug, he's probably the world's biggest cheat in cards, and herbology is a pretty and fake magic to appease the Soporati._ "Thank you for rescuing me from your housecat, now I really must be off before the good rooms are taken, Commander." Dorian hoped he didn't sound too frantic, but it was only the training from his mother and father in proper etiquette that kept him from bolting from the room. 

"I think the Herald, ah, the _Inquisitor_ , is assigning rooms right now with Josephine...." Cullen said. 

"Marvelous! Then I really must put in my request." 

"What's this?" Cullen asked as he bent down to Dorian's spellbook which Rilienus had pushed in the Commander's direction. 

But Dorian didn't need much motion to beat Cullen to the book. With a simple snap of his fingers, he set the pages aflame before Cullen got anywhere near the pages. The Commander took a step back, hand already poised on the hilt of his sword and Dorian mentally cursed himself. 

Templar. Ex-Templar. Of course there had to be some Fereldan fear of magic ingrained in that brain of his and Dorian had just set a book on fire a foot away from his hand. _Well done, Pavus._

"Nothing at all. Old spellbook of mine that's absolutely worthless. Better as ashes, actually. But again, really must be going," Dorian bent down and scooped up Rilienus despite the serpent's protests. "Until next time, Commander." And Dorian made his most ungraceful exit since running from Qarinus and his father. His mother would drag him onto the ramparts by the ears if she saw him acting like that to a man of such a high position of power. 

But Dorian all but sprinted down the stairs, through the rotunda past Solas and his white wolf until he made it on the relatively empty ramparts. He burned the book but the words still danced in his mind as if they had seared unto the nerves. 

The rebuttals formed in Dorian's head. Not a hug, could be a cheat, hair's not curly. Not _that_ curly, at any rate. But it couldn't combat the hollow feeling in his chest growing until he was nothing more than a vessel of skin standing on the ramparts of his new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! We'll see more of Dorian's denial in the upcoming chapters, of course, but this is the bridge to the actual romance :) 
> 
> If you see any mistakes, please let me know! I'll do an edit through tomorrow, but I did a quick edit and thought I caught most of it. (I'm terrible with editing, but it was such a little chapter I thought, why not?)
> 
> Comments and kudos definitely keep me writing and knowing I have people waiting on this fic means I write faster! I won't know that unless you comment! :D 
> 
> As always, you can find me on [tumblr](the-lady-magician.tumblr.com) where I take prompts and reblog all the Dragon Age things!


	6. Apathy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My biggest apologies for how long this chapter took. It's been a really hectic time in my life what with moving, new kittehs, and the mini-bang as well. Also, for those of you who don't know, I'm a BIG college football fan and go to a lot of games and there's concert season coming up, so I can't promise the next chapter any time soon. But me, as an author, I will have something for you by every Wednesday and Saturday from now on for a number of different fics. So two posts a week, this one being my Wednesday one (even if it's Monday). I just can't promise it will be this one :)
> 
> Also, I wrote this chapter while incredibly sleep-deprived and high on caffeine. If there are any mistakes or inconsistencies, please let me know! I'm trying to get back into my groove after the mini-bang and it's coming along slowly.

There were missives on Cullen's desk and reports that he absolutely had to look at before the war-table meeting tomorrow, but the training grounds just outside Skyhold's gate had emptied at the dinner bell. It wasn't that Cullen had a problem with practicing in front of the recruits, it was simply that he absolutely _hated_ it. If one more recruit asked why he held his shield in that particular way, he was not going to responsible for his actions.

But the Inquisition was new--well, this version of it was new. The Herald had only been named Inquisitor a few short days ago and the recruits came in daily. Cullen simply wished they would be a little less green about the gills. All of them wanted to jump into combat when the single most important thing at the moment was getting Skyhold up and running. Telling them to pick up a broom hadn't gone over well, but Cullen had told them, in no uncertain terms, that there was the bloody door if they thought they were above a little menial labor.

Not many people took that option because the Inquisition paid. Not much, but well enough that farmers' sons were forced to pull their expectation of grandeur and heroism back.

The training grounds outside the gates weren't typically busy, as it was a task in and of itself to get down to them, but they always had one or two of the more serious recruits wanting to practice without the eyes of the Inquisition on them. To have them completely bare was an opportunity Cullen simply couldn't pass up.

Liam was with him on the training grounds, sharpening his claws on one of the wooden dummies that Cullen suspects won't last the bout. Blackwall has taken up the task of creating a dummy that will last Liam's claws, but Cullen thinks it's a rather fruitless venture. Worse comes to worse, Liam was just as likely to bite the thing's head off if he couldn't scratch it down to a stick.

The same could be said about Cullen's dummy whose arm was noticeably looser than it had been when he'd approached it. But the wood was ancient and Cullen hadn't had an opportunity to bash something's head in since Haven.

"I thought I'd find you here," came Cassandra's voice from behind him. Anthony lumbered behind her, the bear looked critically from Cullen's wooden dummy to Liam's. Liam bit off the wooden dummy's foot in one smooth motion in response. "Are you settling?"

"As I can," Cullen replied, hoisting his sword over his shoulder. "Are you?"

"It has been...trying," Cassandra replied honestly. It was one of the reasons that she and Cullen got along so well. There was little Cassandra did that wasn't completely honest. "Haven was not expected."

"The undead Magister or the Blight dragon?"

"The mages. What madness led them to following that...thing?" Cassandra asked vehemently. "They claim to desire freedom but pledge service to a madman? What outcome could they be hoping for?"

"A different one than they have now," Cullen replied. His history with mages was questionable at best, but he'd seen terrible things happen to maybe. _Helped_ in those terrible things at a point where he was so entrenched in hatred that he wasn't sure there was anything left to him. Even if he didn't think he deserved a second chance, Cassandra did and that would have to be enough.

Cassandra made a disgusted sound and looked away. Anthony looked like he was trying to sear a hole into Liam with his eyes as the lion chewed happily on the piece of wood. There weren't many familiars who could annoy the large bear like Liam could, but Liam was equal size to Anthony and liked to rub it in Anthony's snout. Cullen would bring it up every once in awhile with a smile to his familiar only for Liam to shoot him a 'Who? Me?!’ look that Cullen's sure he stole from Alistair's mabari in Kinloch. Or Hawke's wyvern. Not a dragon, despite whatever Marian would tell you.

"I'm surprised Liam's with you," Cassandra said in a voice that was meant to be subtly probing and fell spectacularly flat. There was no one more ill-suited for spying than Cassandra Pentaghast.

Instead of answering, Cullen shot a questioning glance towards his familiar. Liam flopped to the ground and began to pitifully whine. "Lord Pavus's avoiding him," Cullen answered for his familiar.

Dorian was also avoiding Cullen, not that Cullen thought much of it. The last time he had seen Dorian, the mage had startled like a skittish cat and darted away. But it put his familiar in a rather foul mood when he couldn't find the mage. There were a few conversations between Cullen and Liam on that if Dorian doesn't want see Liam, then Liam should give him space. Cullen was reasonably sure that Liam didn't hear any of it in between his pouting.

Liam was in a much improved mood today and Cullen's willing to bet everything he owns that it was because of that black Tevinter serpent's unexpected visit to Cullen's office last night. The snake had been waiting for them in Cullen's desk chair that was turned to face the door, body raised halfway off the chair and stared at Cullen and Liam as they walked in. Cullen nearly had a heart attack but Liam seemed overjoyed in the serpent's appearance.

"Whatever you're doing, leave me out of it," Cullen had told the two before retiring to bed.

Cullen wasn't upset at Liam's fascination with the mage. Curious and confused, but not upset. There were rumors flying about Skyhold to answer Cullen’s questions if he cared to listen intently. Soldiers loved nothing more than to gossip and while Liam wasn't hostile to anyone or their familiars, he certainly didn't try to get along with anyone. So for Liam to get along with Dorian to the near point of stalking...of course there were rumors. Cullen preferred the ones that talked of how not all Tevinter mages could possibly be the same if Liam liked one. The ones of Dorian casting a blood magic spell on Liam had caused more than a few recruits to be summarily dismissed. By Lavellan, of all people, who everyone had come to realize had also taken a shine to the Tevinter mage.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at Liam's display. "I can't imagine why," she said in a deadpan voice. Liam simply whined louder. "Do you know why he's so...enamored with the mage?"

"Not at all." Though not for lack of trying. Cullen had asked a few times on the way to Skyhold and received a fanged grin in reply. He'd recently gotten a new answer for the question, though. Two nights ago he asked and Liam wrapped a paw around him and fall in some sort of violent hug with a beast that outweighed him by more than a significant amount. "I doubt he'd tell me if he could."

"He could have picked someone more suitable."

Less Tevinter. Less magic. Less...Dorian. All of these things were in Cassandra's voice and Cullen couldn't fault her. Dorian and he had only seen one another once since they arrived in Skyhold and yet more and more dignitaries were glancing his way, lips moving behind hands that only barely covered their faces.

"I trust Liam's judgment."

"It's not _him_ I don't trust."

"I'm not sure if Liam sees a difference."

"It doesn't bother you? We barely know anything about the man," Cassandra protested. Anthony at her back was looking increasingly annoyed at what he perceived to be Cullen upsetting his mistress. "He shows up at Haven just as it's burning?"

"Liam trusts him," Cullen stressed again, in a way that he hoped was the end of the conversation.

Cassandra held her stare for a few moments more, crossing her arms in a pose Varric calls 'A reminder that she's a Seeker and also a woman who won't hesitate to pull out your esophagus' and Cullen has never agreed with Varric on much, but he can agree with him on this. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Can't imagine why _that_ would start working out for me."

The dissatisfied look Cassandra shot him was interrupted by a roar that deafened Cullen and shook the snow from the ramparts above to plummet down onto the training field. Cullen and Cassandra had their swords in their hands in an instant and whirled on Anthony who was standing and growling, maw opened as he roared again.

At Rilienus, the little black serpent who slithered about the ground and towards Liam as if he was completely unaware of the massive bear he incited into a rage and the two humans he nearly caused to sound the keep's alarm. Liam, for his part, could not have looked happier if he tried. All it took from Rilienus was a low hiss and Liam bent down to the ground to allow the snake to slither about his neck and hide into his mane.

"What in Maker's name?!" Cassandra exclaimed as she shoved her sword back in her sheathe. Anthony came to stand closer to her, teeth still bared in defense of Liam and Rilienus should they step closer to Cassandra.

They did't. Instead, Liam trotted happily away with a passing affectionate nudge against Cullen's hip and the pair disappeared up the mountain, uncaring of the panic they'd just caused.

"What are they doing?!" Cassandra demanded.

"I don't care to know,” Cullen answered as he turned back to the wooden dummy with the now lame arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the little aside with Cullen, I just felt we needed his opinion on a few things :) 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos DEFINITELY help me write faster, and you can find me on [tumblr](the-lady-magician.tumblr.com) where I take all the prompts and reblog all the Dragon Age things! I also have some exclusive writings (Cullrian) that I will be putting on there slowly but surely.


	7. Confidante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, allow me to say that I am very sorry for how long this took to get updated. I got in a pretty bad low there for a bit and wasn't writing much. On top of that, I had no idea where I was going with this story and looking at it just sort of made me even more angry at myself. 
> 
> To be quite honest, I nearly deleted this story in November when it got pretty bad. The only reason I didn't was because I have a great friend, Aeradae, whom I knew I would disappoint. She had been this story's greatest spokesperson since its inception and I can't thank her enough for it. So, from this point on, I would like to dedicate this story the absolute sunshine, rainbows, and kittens friend I have, Miss Aeradae.
> 
> Thank you to tklivory as well, for helping me think of a familiar for Vivienne! It was ultimately her idea, after I was a brat and shot down ten other good ideas she had :D
> 
> Sorry for taking so long. Hope it's at least mildly worth the wait.

If someone were to ask Dorian if he would ever be happy in the Storm Coast, he would unceremoniously light them aflame. It was the sort of action that such ignorance deserved, after all.

But there Dorian was, happy to be in the Storm Coast. More aptly, happy to be away from Skyhold and its two resident lions. The fact that it led him to the Storm Coast was pure circumstance.

An _unfortunate_ circumstance.

Lavellan took the lead, following some map that apparently only she could see. There were a few of these so called rifts scattered about the cursed place, spitting out demons without a seeming rhyme or reason.

It wasn't so much that the fighting was hard--Dorian was rather glad of the fact that he was able to show off, and show off he did--it was the fact that it was the damned Storm Coast. Wet. Dreary. Entirely too green.

"Shoulda been here when we were at the Fallow Mire," Bull said with a grin. He didn't seem bothered at all by the demon blood littering his bared chest. "Your pretty little Vint shoes would be ruined."

"We could still go back there," Lavellan said with a grin in Dorian's direction. She took the point because of course she did, she was the bloody Inquisitor. Auriel was at her side, looking this way and that as their lookout.

"Oh yes, what a marvelous idea. Let's bring the Necromancer to the place with all the undead. While we’re volleying about terrible ideas, why not bring the qunari into the heart of Minrathous? Just to see what would happen, of course.”

"My dear," Vivienne began at the same time that Bull muttered "A lot of dead Vints would happen." "No need to be so cross. We survived the Mire fine without your assistance."

"Presumably with your Orlesian frippery staying mostly intact?" Dorian asked. Vivienne rode atop the Bull's dragon, looking suitably impressive. The damned dragon allowed itself to be saddled before they departed from Skyhold, as if it were an entirely normal happening.

Bull didn't seem to mind his familiar being used like a common horse in the least.

"But of course," Vivienne said. "I'm not some common mage who can't cast a barrier to protect myself."

"I'm surprised they allowed you to preform magic in the Circles. Tell me, were card tricks allowed there or are you Southerns so frightened of parlor tricks that you leave that to more developed mages?"

Lavellan snorted and turned away to hide a laugh from Vivienne's disapproving glare. The white weasel on Vivienne's shoulder was even less impressed than the Grand Enchanter.

"It's an ermine, darling," Vivienne had told him at the outset. 'Food for Rilienus' was rather more what he heard. Rilienus heard that as well if his nervous coiling about Dorian's shoulders was any indication.

"Mages are capable of terrible things, darling. You'd do well to remember that."

"It's all good, ma'am," Iron Bull said from her side. The weird friendship between the two was hardly the strangest thing about this Inquisition. "If he steps out of line, his Templar will push him back. On a bed. Maybe with some rope."

Dorian scrunched up his nose and fought down the hollow feeling in his chest. _It wasn't a **hug,** Pavus._

"Ex!" Lavellan shouted. "He is an ex-Templar and Dread Wolf take you if you call him a Templar to his face. I don't want to pick pieces of you off the ground, Bull."

"I have no Templar, ex or current," Dorian protested.

"Tell that to his lion," Bull said.

"Is that all it takes for shemlen to get together? You just make friends with your familiars?" Lavellan asked. "Does that mean you and I are together, Dorian?"

As if to prove Lavellan's point, Auriel trotted back to the group and extended an antler to Rilienus. The serpent took the proffered antler with a backwards glance to hiss at the weasel on Vivienne's shoulder. The ermine—what was it’s name?—couldn’t look any more pompous. Any more _Orlesian._ It looked at Auriel and Rilienus with the sort of contempt one might find on Vivienne’s face were she to discover how Sera replaced her stockings with Plaidweave.

It was an interaction that Dorian was looking forward to. Varric was selling tickets to it. Dorian was selling tickets to Sera’s funeral.

“Such friends you’ve made, my dear Lord Pavus.”

Dorian resisted the urge to glare at Vivienne. It hadn’t escaped his notice, thank you very much. Within two months of being with the Inquisition, he was already known for being good friends with both the leader of the Inquisition and the leader of the Inquisition’s army. All he needed to do was find a way to win Leliana and Josephine over and he’d have cozied up to the most powerful people in Ferelden in less than half a year.

Wouldn’t Magister Halward Pavus be so proud?

“I can’t help other people having good taste, my lady,” Dorian said. “Perhaps you should try it some time.”

A sharp whistle cut short anything Vivienne was going to say. Lavellan waved at them and pointed to a few Venatori charging their way. “We got some killing to do,” Lavellan said shortly as she took her daggers in hand.

“Oh boss, I like the way you think.”

* * *

 “Bull,” Lavellan said as soon as they set up camp. It had been an exhausting day and Dorian thanked everything above that his clothes resisted bloodstains. Though most Tevinter fashion did, for purely practical reasons. “Take first watch. If that dragon comes back, you do _not_ run after it. Dorian, you’re bunking with me.”

Dorian nodded and shouldered past the Bull who was sighing his disappointment at being scolded not to race after a High Dragon. Honestly, Dorian thought as he opened up his and Lavellan’s tent, how did this Inquisition manage? It wasn’t simply a band of misfits, it was quite possibly the worst band of misfits Dorian’s ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Dalish elf? Let’s make her Herald of a god she doesn’t even believe in. While they were at it, why not add in a religious fanatic for a Spymaster and assassin extraordinaire and an ex-bard Antivan ambassador? Not to mention the most Templar-y ex-Templar leading a band of Templars in the South where, quite by coincidence, there was a literal mage uprising.

Add in a Ben-Hassrath spy, a handful of apostates, a Tevinter not Magister, and some lonely Seekers and Gray Wardens. _Why, how in Maker’s name can this **possibly** fail?_

Rilienus curled about his neck, nudging the corner of his ear in a way that was meant to be supportive. Dorian gave him a weak smile back. It wasn’t like they could leave the Inquisition. He had hedged his bets and settled in with this lot, there wasn’t any going back to…anything. Nothing to go back to, at any rate.

“So,” Lavellan said as she settled into her blankets. She hadn’t changed into sleep clothes, but the fact that she was strapped in light armor, daggers littering her body, and even her boots didn’t seem to matter to her in the slightest. “Tell me about Cullen.”

Dorian groaned. “Lavellan, you know him better than I.”

Auriel curled up near Lavellan’s legs, head resting on her master’s knees. “I do, but I don’t know why you’re hiding from him.”

“Not him. His lion.”

“Oh!” Lavellan exclaimed in fake surprise, barely pulling off the faux emotion. “Is that why I saw you dart away from the main hall when Cullen walked in? Or why you left the tavern when Cullen—not Liam—walked in? Or how abou-”

“Fine,” Dorian cut her off with a wave of his hand. “I’m avoiding Cullen.”

“I know. That’s why I asked ‘Why are you hiding from Cullen?’ So let me ask again; why are you hiding from Cullen? If you want to bed him, bed him.” Dorian choked on air and Lavellan continued on, unperturbed. “If you’re trying to play hard to get, or whatever nonsense you shems do, it’s not working. You’re playing too hard to get.”

“No, I don’t want to bed him.”

“Are you sure? That’s the rumor.”

That wasn’t surprising. Dorian’s sure there were rumors circulating already about their wedding. Varric was probably writing a book about star crossed lovers. “Lavellan, please drop it.”

“Alright,” Lavellan said, noting his pleading tone of voice. “So you want to bed him but can’t. Why not? I know he’s got the whole ‘innocent as fallen snow’ feeling going, but he’s really just angry all of the time. Sit in on a war room discussion and you’ll see.”

“We’re not discussing this, Inquisitor.”

Lavellan stared at Dorian a long while, her brown eyes piercing his very soul. It was easy, Dorian thought, to forget that she was the Inquisitor. The appointed leader of the newly created army that could, in but a few years’ time, start to rival Orlais and Fereldan. The swirling vines on her face were laced with thorns, a rather pretty reminder of who she truly was.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice obtaining a lilt. It was the same voice she had used when she first met Dorian. The one she used when she spoke to dignitaries and people she was meant to impress. The one that she surely had learned from the Lady Ambassador. “I understand, Lord Pavus. I merely wished to help you.”

“Help?”

“Yes. Help. It’s not escaped my notice that you’re here to avoid Cullen. Dread Wolf take you, but you complained so much about the Waking Sea today that you simply could not be here for any other reason. And as the Inquisitor, well, I make the final call on the companions I bring out into the field. While I make no claim to liking Solas…it may be better for us if you stay at Skyhold, researching Corypheus.”

Dorian’s face paled, were that at all possible. There was enough mirth on Lavellan’s face to make it seem like a bluff, but her voice rang as serious. “You wouldn’t.”

“You mentioned,” Lavellan continued as if Dorian had not spoken, “a few Venatori you’d like to track. I don’t know if I could spare myself to accompany you—rifts, you understand—but I think it beneficial if you go. Not on your own, of course. You’d need protection. Perhaps some Templar could accompany you. Or maybe even an ex-Templar. Only the one, I couldn’t possibly spare more of my army.”

Dorian and Lavellan stared at one another for a good ten minutes. Auriel held her head up high as she joined her master’s gaze. At long last, there was finally movement, though from neither of the people in the tent. Rilienus unwound from Dorian’s neck to slither about on the floor and Lavellan extended her hand out to him. The traitor rested his head in Lavellan’s hand, looking back at Dorian as if to say ‘We’re waiting.’

“We,” Dorian started and looked back to the opening of the tent. “We can’t discuss it here.” Not with Vivienne and a Ben-Hassrath spy nearby, at any case.

“Great!” Lavellan fell back into her natural voice with ease, a wide smile on her face. “Don’t look so sad, Dorian. Friends help friends get sex.”

_I really despise this Inquisition._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No worries, we’ll be back to the regularly scheduled Cullrian, soon. By which I mean, Cullen will be back next chapter. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you liked it and kudos and comments keep me going. They really do. Whenever I was feeling bad about my writing, I would look at all the comments people left. It sustains me and my confidence like nothing else. 
> 
> As always, you can find me on [tumblr](%E2%80%9Dthe-lady-magician.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) where I reblog all the Dragon Age things, a lot of Star Wars things, and occasionally exclusive oneshots and fanfiction.


	8. Impromptu Revision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I've been working on my original novel and also delving into the world of cosplay. Not to mention Fire Emblem came out....But, I'm dedicating April (Camp Nanowrimo) to all my fics, so you'll be seeing more of me!
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to the lovely friends I've made through the Cullrian fandom; aeradae, sallyamongpoison, doodlewe, and tklivory. And of course, to all of YOU for keeping this fic alive and well.

"It's not him," Lavellan said when they were safely back in Skyhold and in the Inquisitor's quarters. Dorian had explained, excruciatingly, about the spell he'd cast when he was younger. He left out a few parts where he could, but Rilienus and Lavellan managed to prod most of it out of him. "He didn't hug you."

Rilienus hissed in the Inquisitor's direction, but Dorian couldn't help but smile. Months since their first meeting and finally someone took his side.

"Exactly!" Dorian exclaimed, feeling the knot in his stomach lessen. It hadn't escaped his notice that Cullen had been the first to see the Inquisition's small party back into Skyhold, thereby checking another of the blasted requirements. But none of them mattered because the first one wasn't checked. And one could not simply do a second go at a first meeting.

"Sorry, Rilienus, but Dorian's right. It wasn't a hug and Cullen's hair isn't really that curly. Besides, Cullen got that scar only a few years ago and long after you cast the spell. Magic can't tell the future...can it?"

"No," Dorian said sternly. Nothing in the Fade could foresee the future, especially not flowers and a half-hearted spell he cast when he'd only just come into magic.

"Then it's not him."

It meant more to Dorian than the Inquisitor would ever know, but the cloud that seemed to hang over him since he joined the Inquisition dissipated. The rumors would still swirl about Skyhold, of course. There was little he could do about that since Liam had taken an interest in him.

But Cullen wasn't _him._ There was no bespelled man that was destined to fall in love with him. Which made the Commander harmless. Absolutely, completely, and utterly harmless.

Dorian could have kissed the Inquisitor, but that would no doubt set off more rumors. Instead he made himself happy by shooting Rilienus a smug look.

No one was meant for Dorian, as it should be.

* * *

Weeks passed and Dorian took up residence in the library of Skyhold. He shared the tower with Leliana and her blasted birds and Solas and his ghastly taste in art. But the nook in the library was solely his and Rilienus'.

He was away from Skyhold more often than not, but when he was back in the confines of the hold, it was without pressure. Cullen didn't seek him out, but Dorian wouldn't have turned him away like he had been. Liam still visited on occassion, but it was more to see Rilienus than Dorian.

The lion actually looked offended in Dorian's new found resolve. Cullen wasn't _him_ , and he had Lavellan's word to prove it. Liam and Rilienus thought otherwise, of course. They were often off together and away from their masters.

Odd, the people said. Such scandal! Dorian had heard one Orlesian noble comment on it. Dorian--and Cullen, it seemed--didn't mind. Rather, they both were agitated by what their familiars were doing together; scheming. What that scheming amounted to was anyone's guess.

Dorian didn't want to know. Instead, he focused on the book in front of him on Ferelden and Orlais' different geographic locations. The people spoke of towns that he'd never heard of and resources that were foreign to him. It was a lapse in information from his training in Tevinter, mostly because no self respecting Vint cared a lick about what Ferelden and Orlais decided to call lands that Tevinter still mentally claimed as their own.

If Dorian were to go on more expeditions in the South then he would have to know which places to resolutely avoid. All of them, it seemed. Cold. Hot. Wet. Dry. There wasn't a hospitable place in the bunch except perhaps the Hinterlands and that was only if you decided to ignore the bears that wandered the grounds.

And that blasted Druffalo.

Maker above did Dorian hate that stupid farmer's lost Druffalo. He also hated Lavellan for agreeing to help every farmer or Sister or wounded animal on the way to close the rifts. Yes, yes, helping the greater good but Maker above, didn't they have higher goals than this?

Dorian sat in his chair for hours longer, pouring over the books in the shabby library. He made notes on a nearby piece of parchment of the titles and where they should go on the shelves. If Skyhold was to have a library, it would damn well have an organized one.

Rilienus came by for an hour to peer at his master, read with him, and then slither off Dorian's lap to the side table to leave. Unfortunately, the snake's weight was enough to topple Dorian's plate of fruit onto the floor. The serpent hissed at an offending grape that rest atop his head as if it were the grape's fault the platter fell to the ground.

"You're utterly hopeless," Dorian sighed as he bent to pluck the grape from the snake's head. Rilienus snatched the grape from Dorian's fingers to slither off with it clutched in his fangs. Dorian shook his head at his familiar and piled the rest of the worthless fruit back to its once rightful place before he sat back to finish his book.

The sun set and Dorian was forced to light a few candles to continue his reading. Before long though, the meager candles that the library was afforded couldn't keep his nook lit enough to read.

He could always hold a flame in his hand, but these books were not worth the waste of magic. The South certainly had looser terms of what they considered "scholars." In fact, Dorian was reminded of early Tevinter scholars who colored everything in terms of the Old Gods. As far as Ferelden was concerned, Andraste had her hand in everything, even before her birth.

With the setting of the sun, Dorian came to the unhappy realization that he was starving and without a book to occupy his time, it was annoyingly apparent. The tavern would be open, of course but there would be _people._ Dorian had no problem with people, of course, but well...he didn't feel like putting on a show. The Tevinter pariah who was always in control was a fantasy in the mind's of the Inquisition and it was an exhausting facade to keep up.

The way to the kitchens was clear, all of the Inquisition were either safely tucked in their bed, patrolling the walls, or in the tavern. There were a few shadows that passed by Dorian, but most of them seemed to be someone's familiar. Probably a nocturnal one restless at their master's sleep.

The smell of dried herbs greeted Dorian as he walked into the sparsely lit kitchen. Fire from under a pot was the only thing illuminating the kitchen, probably magically burning at just the temperature. But whatever it was--breakfast of some sort for the soldiers--Dorian had no interest in it. Instead, the cold box drew his attention. Josie liked to think that she was the only one who could ferret away sweets, but Dorian was rather skilled at hiding things away.

The Fereldens loved their heavy sweets, the Antivans their dough based monstrosities, but Dorian had managed to blackmail his way to having a small portion of Tevinter iced dessert sent to him. It was light and fruity and tasted of the few good memories of home.

"Oh," came a voice from the doorway, the same one that Dorian hadn't heard in weeks. Commander Cullen stood in the doorway, Dorian only able to make out the outline of his fur coat in the dark. "I'm sorry. The kitchens are typically empty at this time."

It's clear from Cullen's tone of voice that he doesn't know who he's speaking with and Dorian resists the urge to stay silent until the man leaves. But the image of Cullen keeping his eyes away from Dorian whenever the mage enters the same room, well, it's enough to think that maybe he owes the man an apology. It's not as if he's treated Cullen particularly well since their first meeting.

"Please, Commander," Dorian said, watching the silhouette of Cullen stiffen at his voice. "It's not as if this kitchen is abnormally small. We can comfortably share, I'm sure."

"Lord Pavus-"

"Dorian, please, Commander," the mage said as he interrupted the man. "And allow to apologize for my unworthy behavior towards you. I was...caught off guard by your familiar."

A low, wary chuckle fills the small room. "He surprised me as well."

"Yes, well, I show up in front of an army of rogue mages and then make friends with the leader of the Inquisition's army's tetchy pet housecat. It wouldn't be a good look even if I were Ferelden."

"You don't have to explain yourself."

"I really must. I was not raised in some Southern hovel with no sense of decorum. I acted abhorrently, Commander."

"Apology accepted," Cullen said as he stepped into the kitchen. As he got closer, Dorian could better make out the ragged appearance of the Commander and the under-eye circles that would make even the staunchest workaholic jealous. "I'm Cullen, Commander of the Inquisition," he said as he extended a hand to Dorian.

"Dorian Pavus, most recently of Minrathous," Dorian said as he took Cullen's hand in his own.

This meeting, like their first, didn't have a hug in it either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan just helps cement Dorian's denial, but at least we've got a talking love interest!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are my life blood. When I'm feeling down about my writing, I keep an email of all my comments to look back on :D It helps out far more than you know. 
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](the-lady-magician.tumblr.com) where I reblog all the Dragon Age, Star Wars, and Fire Emblem things!


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